Kurt's Playlist
by narratekate
Summary: With the suicide of Kurt Hummel came a box of letters and a playlist explaining why he decided to leave this world.
1. Prologue

**:) My first Glee FF! I'm surprised it took so long considering how much I love Glee. This song was inspired by many things, this particular chapter by the horror movie 'Horsemen' and the scene where the one boy tried to cut out his heart. It just reminded me so much of poor Kurt. **

**Warning: This story contains graphic details of suicide, rape, and abuse. Also some language. **

Prologue

When Burt Hummel walked into his house that evening he knew something was horribly wrong. All the lights had been turned off and there was a thick metallic scent in the air. There was no dinner on the stove and no note from Kurt saying that he had gone out. Most oddly though… There was no music playing in the house. The high voice that was always singing in the evening when Burt came back from work was missing.

"Kurt?" He called out anxiously.

There was no reply, just the endless eerie silence.

Quickly, the middle aged man opened the door to his only son's basement bedroom. The rusty smell he had noticed when he came in the house became much stronger. Thundering down the stairs he tried to remain calm. Kurt was probably just sleeping or listening to his headphones. Nothing had happened to him, this was just an overreaction. As he entered the room though he knew he was sadly mistaken.

Burt had just walked into every parent's nightmare. What was once a pristine white and grey room was now a gruesome mess. A huge pool of blood covered almost the entire space. Splatters of the same scarlet substance were on the walls and furniture. In the center of the room though was the truly terrifying and heartbreaking sight though.

Pale and unmoving lay Kurt Hummel, his chest carved wide open displaying his insides. His ribs were cracked and various organs could be seen. In his hand was a buzz saw.

He let out an anguished cry as he dropped to his knees by his precious son's side. Tears poured down his face as he gingerly pulled the petite boy into his lap. Sobs racked his body and he cried out his misery. The pain of a parent who had lost their child. He pushed back the blood matted hair and stroked the soft porcelain face. So cold, his usually warm and bright Kurt was cold as ice. He was never going to see his son's beautiful smile again. He would never hear his sweet voice when he sang.

"Kurt… why Kurt?" He lament echoed through the dark house, as Burt held his only son, his pride and joy now dead. He held onto Kurt, who hours ago had attempted to cut out his own heart.


	2. The World is Black, Good Charlotte

**This chapter is rather short too, but I promise after this they get longer. **

**As for the time line of this story, well Blaine is in it but Carol and Burt never dated. So it's sort of AU.**

**Warning: This story contains graphic details of suicide, rape, and abuse. Also some language.**

**Monday Morning**

The day after Kurt's death was a difficult one. Burt had held on to the young boy all night, mourning the loss of his child. In the dawn's light though, Burt knew what he had to do. Slowly, with his heart breaking the whole time, he detached himself from Kurt to go upstairs. He made his face into an emotionless mask as he dialed the number for the police station.

"Hello? This is Burt Hummel, my son committed suicide last night…"

* * *

In less than an hour the Hummel home was swarmed with police. Several were in Kurt's room, searching for something that might give them a reason for his suicide. Another was searching his computer. Lastly there were two in the sitting room, questioning Burt. The first man was tall and wide with a bushy mustache and a badge that said 'Officer Brady'. The second man was slim with messy blonde hair and no badge yet. He was merely a person to take notes until he got promoted.

"Can you please tell us again, what happened when you arrived home sir?" The larger officer asked.  
He took a deep breath and bowed his head. "I walked into the house after nine and the house was dark. I thought it was odd, Kurt hates the dark. He always turns on all the lights… I went downstairs to check on him, I was worried because it was so quiet. Then I opened the door and, and –" Burt stopped mid-sentence. For a moment he cried quietly and the two officers watched awkwardly as the man grieved over his son. Then he managed to compose himself and continued to speak. "Then I walked into Kurt's room and saw him just lying there on the floor." Burt wiped his damp face with his hands and looked down.

Hastily the young deputy finished writing up Burt's statement. Then Officer Brady spoke again. "Did Kurt ever say that he wanted to die or confide any thoughts of suicide to you?"

"No." He said wearily. "He never said a word. He always preferred to suffer in silence. Kurt is brave like that… was. He was brave like that."

The three of them mulled over that thought for a few moments, how easy it was to go from present to past tense when speaking of someone. How a teenage boy, who had been driven to kill himself, was now a past tense. No longer living, no longer anything but a mangled corpse. Instead of asking for help, he had decided not to burden others with his pain; decided that he didn't deserve to live any more.  
Officer Brady cleared his throat. "The other detectives found a buzz saw by your son's side, do you have any idea where he might have gotten it?"

Burt nodded. "The garage. I own a car shop, he probably took it from there. I have so many tools he must have known that I wouldn't notice it was missing…" He choked on a sob. The burly official laid a comforting hand on the heart broken father's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault. There is nothing you could have done different to prevent this."

Just then another man walked in, holding a bright red, wooden box. "Officer Brady, you better come look at this. We found it under the young man's bed…" He hesitated before speaking again. "It's full of letters."


	3. Defying Gravity, Kurt Hummel

**BAM! Third chapter in three days, I am on a ROLL! Hopefully I get chapter four out tomorrow, but no promises. **

**Burt's POV, Monday Night**

I held the thick white envelope tenderly and read the words on the front again.

_'To Dad, love Kurt'_

Love. Kurt loved me, but he loved me too much. Too much to come to me when he was in pain, too much that he didn't want to trouble me.

"Oh Kurt, why didn't you just tell me? I would have done anything to keep you…" A few tears fell and spotted the envelope. I tore it open and pulled out several pieces of folded paper. I cried harder when I saw that it had been written on the stationary his mother had bought him so many years ago. It was light yellow with tiny pink butterflies along the border. Of course it was a girls stationary kit but it was the one he had wanted so she indulged him.

I wiped my eyes with the end of my flannel shirt and began to read my son's final words to me.

_'Dear Dad,_  
_I've thought about this a lot, writing this letter to you. I have so much to tell you, so much I want you to know, but I'll try to make this as short and painless as possible for you.'_

That was just like him; even in his the grave he was worried about my pain.

_'First of all, this was not your fault. Nothing you ever did drove me to this choice. I know you'll probably always feel some small amount of guilt but just know that I never blamed you. If anything, you are the reason I held on so long. You've always been my strong pillar of support, a constant in my life. You have always been there when I needed you Dad, so you're most likely asking yourself 'Where was I when this happened?' I don't know if this answer will comfort you or hurt you more, but you were there the whole time. Every step of the way you were with me and even as I sit here writing this you walked in, kissed me on the head and said you had to go to work for a while. I know that you're probably blaming yourself, thinking that if you just looked closer everything would be fine right now, but it wouldn't have. No matter how hard you might have looked I always would have managed to hide it from you because I wanted to spare you the pain until the last possible moment and I'm terribly sorry._

_Your biggest question is probably 'why?' It's probably the first one you asked. It's the one everyone is asking. But the answer isn't simple and it wasn't just one thing. It wasn't just a quick decision either. In fact, I've been planning this for almost six months now, but I think I've always known that it was going to end like this. But that isn't important. What's important right now is answering your 'why?'_

_The first reason is a big one and to everyone else, a seemingly easy one to have fixed. The bullying. Like I said, it seems like such an easy thing to fix, doesn't it? I could have switched schools or been home schooled. I could have "ignored it" or told an adult right? But I didn't want to make a fuss, and be switched schools. I would have just been running away from the problem. That's ironic isn't it, because I guess that what I'm doing now is running away too. As for ignoring it, it's hard to ignore someone forcing themselves on you. It's not easy to pretend there aren't so many bruises covering your chest and arms that are so painful you can't even lie of them to go to sleep at night. The faculty never intervened either, even when I made repeated complaints. But it wasn't just the bullying in high school. If I thought it would only be two more years I would have endured it, but this thing would have followed me everywhere. My whole life people will be putting me down and abusing me for who I am. It seems like such a silly thing to be hated for, does it not? Because of who I love I deserve to be beaten and have foul words thrown my way? Sometimes I wonder if my gayness is really even the reason for what they do. Maybe it's just because I'm confident in who I am and they wish they could be too. _

_My other reason may also not make very much sense to you but to me it was an even more depressing one. This was my way of escaping Lima. I've never wanted to be here, not with all these stupid narrow minded people. But after mom died I knew that I was never going to be able to leave. If I left I would never been able to come back. I would have been too afraid. This place holds so many sad memories, that if I left and found some sort of happiness, I would never have been able to face them again. I would have been living a lie and still running from all that's happened. So I had to stay so I would never forget about you or mom or all that's been done here. Lima is my home, the home I could never have left. The place that I could only escape in death, to have it be my tomb._

_So these are my final requests of you, Dad. My will. I'd like to have my body cremated and have my ashes spread by mom's grave. That sounds nice, resting beside her again. Who knows, maybe there is a heaven and I'll see her there. Dad, I want you to have my hope chest, that's the box that the letters are in. It has my old baby blanket in it, a CD of my favorite songs, and a few other things in it that meant a lot to me. I would like to leave my collection of scarves to Mercedes, so that whenever it's cold she'll have me there to keep her warm. To Britney, I would like her to have "Mr. Bitey", the stuffed crocodile under my bed. To Tina, all of my romance novels so that she can always have a good love story. And last, I would like Finn to have my mirror, so that when he sees himself he always sees me too._

_All my other things can go in the attic or to Good Will or you can keep them to remember me, whatever you think is best. Finally, my last request is that you please get all of the letters to the designated people._

_I love you Dad, with all my heart. You were the best father I could have ever asked for and so much more. Please take care of yourself and try to be happy knowing that I wanted this and I'm much better off. I love you._

_Your son,_  
_ Kurt'_

The pages were covered with fresh tears as I reread it several times. I looked at the medium sized, cherry trunk that he had left for me. With a swallow and a deep breath, I pulled it in front of me and flicked up the dingy gold clasps that held it shut. I lifted the lid slowly and looked inside. On top was the bundle of letters that I had taken mine from. Underneath the letters were the things that truly made me sob. A ratty pink blanket, the one Kurt had slept with every night since he was a baby and until he was at least fourteen, maybe longer. A necklace that had been his mothers; he had worn it for weeks after she died, refusing to take it off. A grey scarf he had knitted himself… So many damn memories were in that box. So many things to remind me of my precious Kurt.

I sat there for over an hour pulling out every item, to cry over it and reminisce of all the times that had come with it. There was a box of photos in there of Kurt and his mom, Kurt and I, the three of us together. I looked through every one, read the captions on the backs. Finally the last thing left was CD case. I lifted it out with a shaking hand and popped the cover open. It was the CD with all of Kurt's very favorite songs on it. I got up and listened to my old bones crack as I walked over to the stereo across the room. Once the disk was in I hesitated a moment with my finger stuck on the play button before pressing it… Then Kurt's voice sang out and I broke down completely.

_Something has changed within me,_  
_Something is not the same._  
_I'm through with playing by the rules_  
_Of someone else's game…_


	4. Never There, Cake

**I used italics for both flashbacks and the letter, but I think it's pretty obvious which is which by the way its written :) If its not... well :P**

**Sorry it took so long to update but has been being stupid.**

**Finn's POV, Tuesday Morning**

The news that Kurt had committed suicide had spread through the school like a wild fire. Everyone had heard what had happened. He had tried to hack out his heart and his dad had found the body on the floor. If you had walked into McKinley a week ago and then walked in now you would easily sense the change in mood. A week ago we had been a normal high school. People smiled and laughed and squealed. Kids got slushied and the jocks never got in trouble, but we were all fairly happy, and if not that at least content. Today everybody was talking in hushed voices. There was no laughter and if a giggle did slip everyone would just stare at the culprit.

Honestly I don't think they missed him in the least, but they all certainly felt guilty because every single one of us knew that it was our fault. Everybody had bullied Kurt at one time or another because he was gay. We were all guilty because Kurt hadn't killed himself. We had killed him.

So when the Glee club was called down to the office I wasn't really surprised. There was Figgins, sitting behind his desk and off the side were a police officer and Kurt's dad. Mr. Shue was there too.

The eleven of us all stood in the small office, waiting for someone to speak. Rachel decided it should be her.

"I understand that recent events have had a major effect on our lives and that we are all very sad so I wou—"

"Ms. Berry that is enough." Figgins interrupted. Everyone turned and cast a glare at her. Mercedes looked particularly angry with tears in her eyes. "Glee club." He addressed us. "I know that all of you have been shaken by the death of our young friend, but we are not here for pleasantries and comfort. Officer Brady here is going to question all of you and then we have some things for a few of you."

Most of us nodded and filed out into the reception area to wait. The police man stopped me and gestured for me to follow him.

"You're Finn right? We're going to start with you." He escorted me to another room that I think was the vice principals office, but there wasn't anyone else here right now.

"Sit." He said. I listened and plopped down in the chair across from him.

"Name?"

"Finn Hudson, sir." I wasn't sure why he asked, he already seemed to have known it. Maybe it was for the records or something.

"Relationship to Kurt?"

"Team mate… Friend?"

"Okay." He mumbled, scribbling it all down on a little notepad. "Now tell me, what do you know about what happened?" I ran a hand through my hair as this suddenly became very real for me.

In all honestly when I first heard the news from my Puck that Kurt had committed suicide I laughed. I had thought he was joking.

_Finn… Kurt, he… well he died Sunday night. He killed himself." Puck said nervously._

_I chuckled. "Nice one Puck, Kurt wouldn't do something like that."_

_He just stared at me for a second. "D-dude? Did you just hear what I said? Kurt's dead." _

_I rolled my eyes. "Okay Puck, I didn't fall for it you can stop acting now. It's not funny." Inside I felt my stomach roll. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn't kidding._

"_Finn…" He put a hand on my shoulder, but I just threw it off._

"_No." Then I ran._

My breathing was getting unsteady and I gripped the edge of the table. I already knew that Kurt was dead but… just now it was sinking in that he was gone. I would never see him ever again. I mean we'd never been exactly close, but I still knew the kid for Christ's sake. I had talked to him, sang with him… and now he was gone.

"Its okay son, take your time." He man said patiently.

"N-no. I'm fine." With a deep breath I told him what I knew about Kurt had killed himself.

"Did anything Kurt did in the past few months hint at depression or his plans of suicide?"

"No, he acted like he was perfectly happy… well except for the bullying anyway."

"Bullying?" Officer Brady questioned.

"Well yeah Azimio and Karofsky would shove him around and stuff."

"Ah yes, Dace Karofsky? We have a letter for him too."

"Letter?" I said, puzzled.

"Kurt left letters for most of the people close to him." As he spoke he pulled out a creamy envelope and handed it to me.

On the front in Kurt's neat hand writing was my name.

* * *

After I had received my letter and been dismissed Id left the school and sat in my car. Most people would have hesitated to open a letter like that but I ripped it open and began to read immediately.

'_Dear Finn,_

_Can you convict someone of doing nothing? Is it a crime to watch someone murder another and keep your lips sealed? If this was a criminal court then yes you could and yes it would be. You would be accused of being an accomplice and withholding important information. But this isn't a court, it's a letter and since your reading it I'm dead. Really though, it's not your fault as much as it is others, but that doesn't mean you're off the hook yet. You are still somewhat responsible. I bet right now you feel accused and isolated and blamed. You feel like I'm blocking you in and most importantly, you feel alone.'_

I frowned at the words. As I read the letter that was exactly how I had begun to feel. Kurt knew me so well… or maybe it wasn't that he knew me, but that he just knew how to manipulate people's feelings. Either way it was working and now he was toying with my emotions with this damn letter. Even when he was dead he wouldn't give me a break.

As I thought about that though, I realized that maybe I did deserve this. Because never once did Kurt get a break about his sexuality from me or anyone else. I continued reading to find out that that was exactly what this was about.

'_That's how I felt every day. Every one isolated me, made me as alone as possible. They would accuse me of being a pervert, being unnatural. Then they would leave me and look on as bullies like Karofsky would shout names at me or even beat me up. I was thrown in dumpsters, shoved into lockers, and kicked when I was down. But I could live through the torment of strangers; it was the pain from the people I loved that really hurt. That's what you did Finn, you hurt me. Not physically, probably not on purpose but none the less you did._

_You never let me forget that I was different, that I didn't fit in. When I was going to sing that duet with Sam you immediately intervened. You told me people would get the wrong idea. Sam didn't say that, you did. You went out of your way to tell me that it was wrong for me to sing a duet with a boy because I was gay. You were one of the people who isolated me and from your isolation also came your ignorance of my pain. While I was abused you turned a blind eye and left others to help me. You were a witness and an accomplice. Humor me one last time as I tell you how your trial would play out if this did happen to be a court. You are on the stand and there is a faceless judge above you. I am on the victim's side. In the audience are your friends, family, and peers. We were gathered to convict you of being an accomplice to the student population who had committed the crime of abusing me to the point where I killed myself._

_An attorney starts giving evidence from many instances that you ignored my abuse or did it yourself. Puck would shove me into the lockers and you'd walk right past. Once, only one time, you told him to lay off. Never did you take action or notify an adult. You might think that telling him that one time was enough, that you never did it so you're not to blame. But all that does is make you an ignorant witness. As Puck or someone else would throw me in the dumpster, you would hold my jacket! I would scream and all you did was offer to take my jacket so it didn't get ruined. Screw the fact that I would have bruises and smell bad for the day; you did your good deed. Right now the jury would murmur, perhaps someone in the audience would begin to make loud accusations. Every slushie, insult, and punch that you could have prevented or told someone about… that you didn't, you were an accomplice to. _

_The attorney begins to question you. 'Did you on such occasion stand by while Mr. Hummel was abused?' You answer yes. _

_We move on to the 'faggy incident'. They tell how you verbally abused me, how my father had to intervene. They ask if you admit to it, you say yes again. On and on it would drag through every time I was bullied and you were there and every time you did it yourself. Soon it was coming to a close and the jury is deciding your fate. You are nervous, you are positive that they are going to convict you of abuse and accomplice to abuse. The jury comes in and your palms begin to sweat and a million scenarios run through your mind. They give the verdict…_

_You are innocent._

_You were not convicted, they are setting you free. Do you want to know why? Because no one else will come forward now that I'm gone there is no reason to pin any blame on someone. Secondly, I don't blame you. I know that this entire letter may make it seem quite like I do, maybe that I even blame you more than others but I don't. The point of this letter was not to tell you that I think it's your fault, but to make you blame yourself. I have left you my mirror so that every time you may look in it you will remember me._

_Kurt Hummel'_

On the back of the envelope was another note, short and different hand writing.

'_Come to the house after school and I'll give you the mirror. I didn't want to risk breaking it by bring it to the school._

_Burt'_

I swallowed deeply and set the letter aside on the passenger seat. It was a lot to take in. I felt my eyes well up but I wiped at them furiously, refusing to cry. I looked at the clock on the dash board and saw that I had about half an hour until school got out. That was close enough to the time Burt had said so come, so I grabbed my keys and turned on the car. I pulled out of the parking lot and began heading towards Kurt's house. It was a route I had rarely taken.

Ten minutes later I had arrived at the house. It looked the same of course, but I knew the inside had changed. I got out of the car nervously, not sure what it would be like talking to Burt. I hesitated before knocking on the door. After a few minutes of waiting I began to feel awkward. Just as I was about to turn around and leave, the door opened.

"Hello sir." I said respectively.

He grunted. "Come in."

As I walked through the door into the house, for some reason I half expected the walls to be covered in blood and gore. Silently he led me to the sitting room where a mirror was leaning against the couch. I bit my lip when I looked at it. It was a little shorter than my arm and it had white metal roses around the border, it looked terribly romantic and like something Kurt definitely would have loved. I ran a few fingers over the surface appreciatively.

"He found it at a garage sale a few years ago, really liked it…"

I nodded and slowly knelt down to look at my reflection. That was when the tears began. Burt cleared his throat stiffly and then rested a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"I j-just can't believe it…" I said brokenly.

"Me either kid, me either."


	5. Airplanes, BOB

**Mercedes' POV, Tuesday Afternoon**

Just walking and breathing without him had become difficult. My diva buddy was gone and I felt my mind throb painfully at anything that made me think of him. I was heavy hearted today as the entire Glee club was called down to the office. I knew that they were going to question us about Kurt and my eyes began to tear up because I knew I would have nothing to tell them. He had never been any different around me, never mentioned a thought of suicide or depression. He had always seemed happy. Now I realized he had only been acting for us. Why hadn't I paid just a bit more of attention?

I sighed. I knew that was stupid. Even if Kurt had told me he was too stubborn to have listened to me. And its not like I would have told anybody anyways. I never could have betrayed him like that. If this was truly what he had wanted then maybe it was for the best, even if it hurt like hell.

We all waited in the reception area outside the office. Some of us sat on the floor because there weren't enough chairs. Finn had been the first to be called in. We didn't talk, just sat in silence and mourned Kurt. This isn't what he would have wanted, he wouldn't have wanted us to sit around like a bunch of zombies wishing we had known before hand. Kurt would have wanted us to talk about this, to reminisce the good times, not his death.

"Remember that time that he wore that blue kilt?" I said bravely. They all stared at me for a moment before Tina spoke up too.

"Y-yeah. He always had the craziest outfits." She gave me a tiny smile.

"I remember when Glee first started and he called 'Le Freak' really gay." It was so ironic." Rachel said.

I felt better as we all began sharing the moment we had had with him. "And that time that he had said my jacket made me look like a technicolor zebra?"

The memories just kept coming out of everyone and the mood in the room lightened with every one that was shared.

"And that time you two were on the Cheerios?" Britney said. "He was so much fun. He would come over to my house after practice and paint me and Santana's nails."

At those words Santana began to sob uncontrollably. Sam put a comforting arm around her and she managed out between her tears, "I-I just miss him so much. We always took him for granted."

I was shocked at this display. Of anyone I thought who might break down and start crying I never thought it would be Santana.

It had been about ten minutes since Finn had left when he stumbled back into the room. In his heand he clutched an envelope. Without even looking at us he left the office and ran like his life depended on it. We all stared after him for a second when the police man came back in too.

"Mercedes Jones?" He called out.

"That's me." I said, standing from my seat on the floor.

"This way, please." He guided me to the room Finn had just left. "Sit."

I sat in the chair ha had pointed at. He looked at me a second before sighing.

"His father told us that you were his best friend?"

"Yes, and he was mine." I replied, not knowing where he was going with this.

"Did he ever saying anything to you that was even slightly suspicious? Anything that might have hinted at depression?" He voice sounded tired, I guess working on a job like this wouldn't exactly leave a person happy and energy filled though.

"No. Kurt wasn't one to burden others with his problems. We all know about the bullying, but… he never wanted to talk about it to us. He preferred to stay strong."

"And who bullied him? Names?" The officer pulled out a pencil and a notepad.

"Azimio, most of the hockey players actually, but the worst one was Karofsky."

"Karofsky?" He put his pencil back down without writing anything. Why hadn't he written his name down? "We already have him on the list. We've got a letter for him too."

"Letter?" I asked, remembering the envelope Finn had/

'Yes, he left one for you as well." He pulled out a stack of envelopes and handed me the one off the top. I took it with a shaking hand.

"Will that be all?" I asked, holding it close.

"Ah, we also have something here that he left for you." I watch him stand and pick up an average cardboard box from the corner. It was handed to me and my stomach rolled. He had left something for me? I hesitated before decided I would open it later in private.

"I'll be going now." I said and I left the room holding what I had left of him.

I sat on my bed looking at the box and letter, neither of which had been opened yet. In all honesty I was terrified of what they contained. Also I knew that this was my last reminder of him and I didn't want to waste the moment. Reading that letter would feel like Kurt was right there next to me and I wanted to enjoy that moment as much as I could.

It was hours later that I finally decided to open them. I picked up the letter first. Trying to keep my trembling under control, I slid a finger nail under the flap and slit the envelope open. Inside was a few sheets of paper. Tears shined over my eyes when I saw Kurt's favorite stationary. It reminded me of our first sleepover when he had shown it to me.

"_Hey Kurt, what's this?" I asked hold up a cherry wood box._

_He stopped plucking his brows to look over at me. When his eyes landed on the box he smiled sadly. "That's my hope chest, it's full of my most prized possessions. Most of them are things from my mother."_

"_Your mom?" I said. Of course Kurt would probably be close to his mom, but she hadn't been here when we had come in._

"_When I was seven, she died of cancer." His voice was soft, but he wasn't going to cry. _

"_Oh Kurt, I'm so sorry."_

"_Don't worry about it 'Cedes, it was a long time ago. I can show you the things inside if you want?" He moved from his seat at the vanity to sit on the bed beside me. _

"_Sure." I said, smiling and handing him the box. He took it and ran a hand affectionately over the lid. AS he opened it his smile was a little less sad and a little more happy. The first thing he had pulled out was a tiara. It was silver with green jewels._

"_This was hers. She was the prom queen in her senior year. When she first gave it to me, I remember telling her that I wanted to be a prom queen too." He chuckled and handed me the crown so I could get a better look at it. The silver was a bit tarnished and a few of the jade colored gems were missing It was still beautiful though._

"_That is so like you, hon." I replied, giggling too at the image of a small Kurt with a crown on his head wanting to be a queen. I handed it back to him and laughed even harder when he put it on._

_He left it there as he pulled the next thing out. A small jewelry box, inside though was not jewelry, but photos and ticket stubs from all kinds of plays._

"_She loved the theater too. They went to New York for their honeymoon and my dad took her to a bunch of the shows. There are photos of all us in there too."_

_I pulled out each thing and looked at it carefully for a moment. She had been to Wicked, Rent, Hairspray, and many others. There were photos of the family at the park and at home, all smiling. After I had put them all back in the box he took out yet another small box, this one pink cardboard. Inside was stationary. Yellow paper with pink butterfly borders, white envelopes, all different shades of pink gel pens. "She… bought it from the hospital gift shop after the first chemo session."_

_We sat in silence as he tried not to cry._

"_Kurt… I'm so sorry."_

As the memory faded I swallowed. I had always thought Kurt and I were so close, sharing moments like that. But apparently not as close as I had thought. He had still kept secrets, had things he wouldn't tell me. I frowned and began to read the letter.

'_Dear Mercedes,_

_Your letter is different from almost everyone else's, because I'm not telling you how, why, or that it was your fault. Your letter is a thank you letter, because you really do deserve a thank 'Cedes._

_You are one of the few people who didn't judge me for my sexuality, you judged me by me. You accepted me without a second thought and that is more than I could have asked for. You were the perfect friend for me and you have no idea how grateful I am. I can think of so many cheesy metaphors to use to explain the vastness of my gratitude, but I have a feeling that you would just think they were silly. If It wasn't for you this would have happened so much sooner._

_Now this isn't just thanks. I know that right after my dad, you are probably the most upset by this. I can easily imagine your pain and anger at me. 'Oh no you didn't white boy. What made you think this was a good idea? Who told you to do this, I will cut them!' That probably what you would say to me if you could. I know that now it is too late for me to make you promise me anything, but I ask you to promise this to yourself. I don't want this to ruin anything for you. I need you to be strong and not let this hold you back at all. Move on and stay strong. You could get out of here and be famous one day, girl. I only want the best for you and I want you to want the best for yourself._

_Thank you Mercedes, I am endlessly grateful for the friendship you gave me. You will always be in my heart._

_Love Kurt'_

I couldn't control the sob that wracked my body during Kurt's letter. It was impossible; I could not accept that my best friend was gone. I cried for almost a quarter of an hour. Wiping my eyes, I steeled myself and tried to be strong like he had asked.

I grabbed the cardboard box from the end of my bed. Whatever he had left for me must have been meaningful. With no hesitation this time I pulled on the flaps and opened it.

The contents of it made me want to start crying all over again, yet I didn't. Instead I smiled at the loveliest gift I had ever received. I pulled out scarf after scarf, stroking each one gently and then setting it on my bed. They were of every color and pattern. Some were thin, fashionable silk and other thick, practical wool. But the best par was that they all smelled like Kurt. I threw myself into the pile of fabric and took in as much of him as I could.

"I love you Kurt. I really will miss you."


	6. Last Resort, Papa Roach

**Is it sad that my own story makes me cry? :\ This chapter bothers me, but not because of my writing.**

**Warning: This story contains graphic details of suicide, rape, and abuse. Also some language.**

**Karofsky's POV, Tuesday Early Afternoon**

I was so angry, so impossibly angry. How could he have done this to me? Why did he have to leave me? I felt so abandoned, so absurdly alone. I had no reason to feel like this, but I did.

It was sixth period and I was in Global. I had just gotten a text from Jake about _him_. About how he had _died. _How had I not known this earlier? Apparently it was the only thing anyone was talking about all day. I bit my lip and my fingers curled into a fist around my cell phone. So much… anger. I'd never been this livid in my life.

People had begun to look at me because I was shaking and my face was probably getting red. I felt their stares on me and it seemed like they knew. They probably all knew what I had done.

"I need to be excused." I said loudly, as I stood up and make my way towards the door.

"Dave! Get back he—" I slammed the door before Ms. Dellar even had a chance to finish.

I didn't know where I was going; all I could think was that I had to get away. I needed to escape from them. Running down the hall, I could hear my sneakers slapping on the tiled floor. It was almost like a nightmare, running through the seemingly endless halls, because I couldn't even think of where I was. All I could think of was _him _and how he was gone and how the whole school must know now.

Then it was over, I had reached where my feet had been taking me. The end really did make it seem like a nightmare, the way the dark walls leered at me. I held back a loud sob when I recognized where I was. It was the projection room above the auditorium… but it wasn't where it was that mattered, but what had happened here.

I could see the blood splattered on the walls and his guts covering the floor. Tools of murder and suicide covered the floor and I could hear his screams in my head. They were so loud, so loud and I couldn't get away from them.

I knelt down as the waves of emotion rolled over me and I was immersed in the awful memory, the real horror.

_There were all on that fancy stage doing their dance moves and singing like a bunch of dorks. They're all fucking stupid… except him. He was perfect and sexy and beautiful. I wanted him so unbelievably bad and if my plan went well I would have him._

_Soon the song ended and they were all panting and congratulating each other on their work. I watched silently as they grabbed their bags and slowly began to leave. He was always the last one in there. Today was no different as the dippy blonde cheerleader kissed him on the check and left him alone in the large semi-dark room… alone, except for me._

_It seemed so dramatic as I crept down the aisle slowly, my eyes glued to him as he packed up his things, back to the seat. He was perched close to the edge, close enough that this would work. I ducked behind the edge of the stage and waited._

"_Hmmm-hm-mmmm." He hummed to himself obliviously. "Oh shoot!" He had dropped one of his many lip glosses and it rolled off the stage, landing right next to me. I held my breath as he turned around and peered over._

_A high pitched scream filled the thick air as he saw me, but I was fast. Grabbing his ankle and yanking him off the stage and into me, I tried not to panic at the amount of noise he was making. He kept screaming in one long note after another until I clasped a hand over his mouth muffling those pretty cries._

_Once he realized his voice couldn't save him, he began flailing his arms and legs violently. For his petite frame he was strong, but it was nothing compared to my weight and years of sports. Using the arm around his torso I gave him a squeeze. The little countertenor coughed and sputtered behind my hand and his thrashing died down a bit. _

_While he was still dazed I heaved him closer to me and began to drag him up towards the projection room. No one went up there anymore, making it the perfect place. As I reached for the door handle the boy in my arms began to regain awareness and must have realized that something was happening to him._

_He began screeching again and I hastily smothered his face and pulled him into the dark room. I kicked the door shut and slammed his frail body against the glass overlooking the auditorium. He whimpered pitifully and I regretted it for a moment. It didn't last long though, before I began to get to work. With one hand I held him against the glass and with the other I pulled his scarf from around his neck. _

"_Why?" He croaked as I let go of his hands to tie the piece of cloth around his mouth. _

"_Cuz your just so damn pretty princess." I whispered huskily in his ear. _

_He choked out a sob as I pulled his arms roughly above his head. With the other hand I tugged down his pants to his knees. He began to struggle again, muffled cries coming out as the reality was dawning on him. I grabbed him by his expensive shirt and smacked him into the window again. _

"_Stop it! Stop making this so goddamn hard!" I shouted at him, pulling his shirt off while I was at it. _

_He groaned but his struggles stopped. Panting heavily I jammed my thigh between his legs, spreading them. Then… I took a few minutes to enjoy the view. _

_His shoulders were small and weak, but still masculine looking attached to his smooth back that was thin. It lead down to his round, perfectly sculpted ass. Hands still above his head I reached around and felt the skin on his chest. His whole body was hairless, soft and white. He was like a porcelain doll or a baby… and he was mine to ravish._

_I stuck my finger in my mouth and slicked it up, then slowly wiggled it between his cheeks. I heard him gasp and yelp as I it pushed it into him. As I loosened his hold up more and more tears kept coming down his face and he would shudder with sobs. I grit my teeth and tried to imagine something else. _

_I tried to pretend that the cries were cries of pleasure, not pain. Tried to pretend that we had snuck up here as a couple and that he wanted this like I did. I tried hard to convince myself that what I was doing wasn't wrong, but I couldn't not know the truth. I knew that right now I was about to rape him. _

_I grunted as I pulled my fingers out of him and undid my own pants, shoving them down roughly. _

"_Hmmm-mmm! NNMMM! MM!" He tossed his head back and forth like a startled colt as I began to position the head of my cock as his ass. He kept kicking his legs and attempted to pull his hands out of my grasp. He was moving so hard I almost lost my grip on him. _

"_I told you to stop!" I yelled, shaking him and smacking him into the glass again by his wrists. Then I thrust into him to the hilt. _

_His mouth moved around the gag in a wordless yell as I thrust in and out of him furiously. My emotions reached the brim as all the hurt I'd ever felt was pounded into him. All the anger and the hurt, the secrets and pain of hiding were expelled through him. I reached my free hand around and grabbed for his limp dick, stroking it, trying to get a rise out it. It didn't work though as he stayed hopelessly listless. Angrily, I let go of him and began moving harder. Quickly it was becoming too much and my steady rhythm became jerky. He wailed out loudly as I emptied myself into, as I emptied every single emotion into his body and away from mine._

_I leaned on him heavily for a moment, trying to catch my breath. As my breathing steadied I pulled out of him with a disgusting and loud squelch. Then I let go of him to pull my jeans up. As soon as my hands left him he collapsed on the floor, shaking. Blood and my cum leaked out of his ass and the sheen of sweat coated his body. Whimpers came from behind the gag in a steady stream as he pulled his arms up to his bare chest. _

_I zipped up my fly and turned to cast one last glance at the small body on the floor._

"_You better not tell anyone about this, fancy. If you do I'll—I'll kill you! Got it?"_

_He cringed at my voice and nodded, trying to cover himself up._

"_Good." I straightened my jacket before leaving the room and going on with my life like nothing had happened._

As I sat on the floor, sobbing my mind raced with what was happening. The whole school knew by now, they must. He had told everyone that I had raped him and now they were coming for me. He was too, he was going to come and haunt me until I died. He would torment me to same way I had done to him. I had deluded myself into thinking that we had something, that he wasn't actually afraid of me. But he was and he had killed himself to get away from me. He had run, just like I did running from that classroom and all the people who knew my secret. I pulled on my hair, knowing my future. I was going to die and I would burn in fucking hell.

Then the devil called.

"Dave Karofsky to the office, Dave Karofsky to the office please."

**I don't know if it's obvious or not, but everyone doesn't actually know. The walls don't have blood on them or anything either, but he's not insane. **** He's just sort of freaking out, like he's** panic. :) 


End file.
